


Is it pain you're looking for?

by depressed-sock (jinxedragon)



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Multi, just so much angst man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2019-11-18 02:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxedragon/pseuds/depressed-sock
Summary: Bad things bingo for fallen hero.Note: Tag warnings and Spoiler warnings are in each chapters beginning notes!





	1. Mouth Stitched Shut

**Author's Note:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo  
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic  
> Mouth stitched shut  
> Tw: Blood, mouth stitched shut, suicidal thoughts  
> WC: 632  
> Retribution Spoilers below!!

Your fingers brush against your lips, _against the scars_. You talked too much, told them **_no_** too many times. A _thing_ does not say no to its owners.

 You remember being held down against an operating table, her hands steady as the needle pierced through your skin just above your lip. You refused to scream, refused to cry and acknowledge the pain, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. You remember when after agonizing minutes she pulled the thread tight sealing your mouth shut, _the taste of blood_ , her whispered lies, “Be good and maybe I’ll remove them.”

 You weren’t good though, you had wanted to die of starvation or dehydration instead of mindless obedience. But in truth, you knew that wouldn’t happen. They would never have given you the pleasure of that when you could still be useful. And over time you did become useful again, because what else could you do except dig your hate into a pit and leave it buried until the time was right.

 The stitches stayed because she liked seeing you like that. Loved seeing you obedient and quiet. Your time there blurred together, or maybe _parts of you forced yourself to forget_ , and then you escaped. Stumbling free, your strings cut again and you find yourself having to stare into a mirror. Forced to see yourself as how they see you, how everyone would prefer you to be.

 Your mind had let the anger come back as you had cut each stitch away, fresh blood slicked your fingers, the taste of the blood quenching your dried mouth. It feels like that’s all you can taste now, even the cigarettes can’t overpower it. _No matter how many you smoke_.

 It was after when someone had asked you a question, a clerk if you remember correctly, you realized you couldn’t find the strength to speak. That every time you opened your mouth that the words would die in your throat and your mouth would snap shut. They took away your ability to say no in more ways than one. They had broken you and you hadn’t even realized until you had tried to be free again.

 You brush your fingers against the scars again, so much worse than the tattoos etched into your skin. The tattoos took away any chance of being human but the scars took away the only thing that you could truly use against them. Or that’s what they think. You’ll prove them wrong, prove that your stronger than what they could ever know. You’ll show the world the truth through action.

   Ortega wouldn’t approve or maybe she would…You remember her face when she had talked at you but you had never responded. Lips shut tight as your hands shook as you had got out a pad of paper and a pen. _She never asked_ , even though her eyes never left your lips. Her frown was angry as she read the truth you were willing to tell her, you don’t think any other explanation would have worked. You had enemies and you had been in their care.

 She wondered why you didn’t come to her for help. You would have laughed if you could because there was nothing she could have done. Nothing she can do now but try to keep up the charade of caring. That’s all it is, fake concern. _She never looked for you_.

 Steel hadn’t asked either, eyes never looking at your lips when you could see. But you knew he was watching, knew it in the way his mind flinched every time your pen hit the paper. _Guilt, regret_ ; it doesn’t matter because what you feel from him is a faked projection. Something you want from him but will never get.

 Your hand falls into your lap, staring at the wall. You’re a broken toy no one will ever truly care about, or maybe in their mind, you’re fixed. _**Finally, eternally silent.**_


	2. Made an Example of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo  
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic  
> Made an Example of  
> Tw: Blood, torture, character death, forced obedience  
> Evilstep (Seriously Cyn is not a nice person)

Your boots click against the warehouse floor, humming as your fingers drag along your array of tools. Steel sits before you, bound to a chair. He looks up at you weakly, expression hard, trying to be unreadable but you know he’s scared. You could taste it your first few sessions, can feel it now in the way his mind immediately tries to recoil from yours. But he’ll find no escape.

 From his eyes, you see your grin, _broken and sadistic_. “Broken? Is that what you really think?” you heard tilts almost unnaturally in this light.

 “I do.” said with regret. Said like he might even care that you’re not the person you used to be. _You were never that person though._

 “Don’t even kid yourself,” you grab the nearest knife striding forward to slam it into his flesh shoulder. To his credit, he doesn’t cry out, even as you twist it and lean forward to whisper against his ear, “I’ve always been like this.” You let go of the knife stepping back, “I just realized I was tired of playing pretend.”

 He grits his teeth in response, opening his mouth to respond but immediately slamming it shut as your mind bombards his. You can feel the scream building in his throat but it’s never released as your mind pulls away from his. You know your mind must feel like broken glass, maybe that’s why his first instinct is to think someone broke you down enough times that what got put back together wasn’t you.

 You laugh, your voice echoing in the warehouse, it sounds like someone who’s finally realized the truth. Because no, all they did was make you realize exactly what you crave. Others pain, others obedience, people broken down so you can easily use them. Just like Argent who thinks this is some kind of partnership and Herald whose mind you’ve broken into something unrecognizable by anyone but you. Steel and Ortega, though, they are the only ones who have not bowed. So one of them had to be an example to the other. It was never going to be Ortega, after all, he was yours no matter how much he hates you.

 You look at your gloves hand, full of your nanovores, or _little devourers_ as you fondly call them, “It’s really too bad you’re so stubborn Steel. Could have saved yourself so much pain.” _Hmmm_ , save them so you can have some more fun? Or immediately put him into unimaginable pain? Such a hard decision.

 “Fuck you,” he spits, blood running down his mouth from your previous session. Unimaginable pain does sound delicious.

 “Oh Steel,” you laugh walking back to him straddling his lap, his arms pull against his bounds but you know they won’t break. “You couldn’t handle me.”

 He screams as the nanovores begin to eat his mods.

…

 “Do you see now Ricardo? This is why you obey.” You watch bored as he cries over Steel’s barely breathing form. You doubt he’ll survive the hour.

 “How coul-”

 “How could I? Well if you must know,” you lean forward on your throne, “it was incredibly easy. The way he begged for me to stop made it even better.”

 He holds back a sob, anger flashing in his eyes, “I’ll stop you.” Said through gritted teeth, a lie he thinks is true.

 You push if your throne striding forward until you stand above him, “No Ricardo you won’t,” you kneel down beside him hand cupping his chin, “Because if you try, Steel won’t be the only one I make an example of.”

 He doesn’t try to escape your grip, eyes flashing skyward to where Herald floats. A guard you could easily afford to lose, _to hurt_ if it meant Ortega’s obedience. “Fine,” the word gritted out through his teeth. You smile, pulling him forward into a kiss.


	3. Traumatic Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo  
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic  
> Traumatic Haircut  
> Tw: forced haircut, forced conformity  
> (Possibly some spoilers)

  _You run a hand through your hair, studying the almost white shine it has in the mirror. An oddity that had always made you stand out amongst your kin. A flaw in the system, probably, you’d like to think that was the case. It would explain why your body felt wrong, too square… too masculine. You sigh thoughts whirling in your head. In order to hide you’ll have to do something with it. Change the color to a darker blonde perhaps…_

…

 You don’t even notice the first time they shave it off. You’re still unconscious, still so close to death. Your body is broken from the fall, your mind was broken before you even hit the ground. You dream of a smile you wish you had the courage to match.

…

  _You run your hands through her hair, gently braiding it. It’s soft against the skin of your rough hands._

_“You know I could braid yours too if you want,” she laughs, lighthearted and beautiful. It makes you smile in a way you never have before._

_“There’s not much to braid,” you laugh, it’s almost shoulder length now, not quite yet._

_…_

You wake up, unable to move, tubes coming out of you as a monitor beeps. They stand above you and fear courses through you because you know it’s them. Your back within their claws and there’s no escape.

 Your hair is just past your ears, growing slowly as you lie laid up in the bed. You can’t move, sometimes you barely feel conscious. Sometimes you wish you weren’t. Everything passes in a blur.

…

  _Her hands run through your hair, it’s finally grown long enough for her to braid. You laugh gently as she plays with it instead._

_“Your hair is beautiful,” she murmurs, almost mystified by the almost white that blends into the dark blonde tips._

_“I thought you were going to braid it?” you smile, relaxing back against her. Is this a thing friends do? You don’t think so, it feels too intimate, too close…but she never comments on it._

_She hums happily in response, fingers massaging your scalp, “Shhh let me enjoy this.”_

_…_

 You sit in a chair, head tilted down and your long white hair falling in front of your face. You try not to think of Julia’s hands running through it. Admiring it. You try not to imagine her smile and laugh when you finally turn to her and ask if she’s ever going to braid it for you or if she plans to just run her hands through it.

 Someone pulls back your hair, the sound of scissors sound more like they’re cutting into your flesh. You pretend you’re not crying as each lock of hair falls to the floor. That when they start to shave the rest of it away, that this isn’t real. And if it is you try to reassure yourself that’ll grow back.

 They’ll never let it grow back, a punishment for escaping, for not following the rules and plans they set in place for you. This is their way of saying: You will never be what you want to be.

…

 “ _Cora that’s a pretty name,” she smiles softly at you and you find yourself looking away embarrassed._

_“You really think so?” you nervously brush your hair out of your face._

_“Definitely,” her smile is so gentle, the way her face lights up beautiful when you smile shyly at her. Sometimes you wish this dream would last longer and not return to the nightmare that’s reality._


	4. Body Image Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Body Image Issues
> 
> Tw: self-harm, references to past sexual/nonsexual abuse, dysphoria, a small mention of blood
> 
> (I have no clue what happened but it got really abstract)
> 
> Spoilers!

  _Shards of broken glass against your feet, your reflection blurred and marked._

 The first year after your second escape was the hardest. Trying to find some kind of ground to find purchase on even as it crumbles beneath you. Did it use to be this bad? You don’t think so, you don’t remember a time before you fell that you wanted so badly to peel away every bit of you until all that was left was nothingness and something that was maybe you. The real you, the you that felt right, the you that wasn’t marked like property. The you that didn’t feel like every inch of your skin was tainted with something that could never be fully scrubbed away.

_Hands reaching, grabbing, bruising._

 Memories etched into flesh even though only you can see the marks. You try not to look, try to ignore that you’re falling deeper into a hole you can’t escape. Going back on testosterone helps some, even the binder helps bring a sense of peace but then it has to come off. You don’t want to look, you don’t want to see everything you hate.

  _It’s wrong no matter how hard you look, how hard you try._

 Only the marks you have made yourself feel safe, the only parts you can stand to look at. Peeling away the fingerprints only you can see. _You’re not real, you’re not supposed to feel this way,_ their words echo in your head and make you wonder if maybe you are more real than they intended if you’re not supposed to feel this way. They fucked up and the consequence is your existence. Something you and everyone have to suffer with now.

  _A piece of a dream falling out of place and spiraling towards no destination. A broken world around you reflecting how they want to see you. Never as yourself._

_And you scream against the fate that is clear for all but you. And you rage against what you know isn’t right. Shatter the world with your fists and allow the blood to tarnish your reflection._

_You can’t be what they want. You refuse to be what they want. All the abuse, all the fear; no longer will you take it in defeat._

_Grab the shards and carve away at yourself until all that’s left is the version of you that you have made. Your faults, your strengths, all are now what you were meant to be._

_A mirror unbroken amongst the shattered and you can finally see yourself as you were meant to be and finally, you can find some peace._

_…._

 “You look happy today Kiyo,” Ortega leans back in his chair studying you with a smile. You shrug in response trying to will away your smile unsuccessfully.

 “Had a weird dream,” an admittance that doesn’t carry the fear it would have usually.

 “Oh? Was I in it?” he smiles suggestively but you roll your eyes in response and throw your empty cup at him but he easily catches it before it hits him in the face.

 “No idiot,” you shake your head, “Just… I don’t know. I feel like I fit together a bit better today.”

 He looks at you thoughtfully, words murmured softly, “You look it.”

  _A piece of a dream falling out of place and spiraling towards a destination._


	5. Denied Food as Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Denied Food as Punishment
> 
> Tw: abuse, starved
> 
> Sidestep: Morgan Lace
> 
> Spoilers!

 You don’t remember what you did wrong and you think at this point it doesn’t matter. Another day, another meal skipped and forgotten. Your handler apologizes but you can feel something in their mind. A pleasure in seeing you suffer without complaint.

 Sometimes you wonder if that’s what you’re supposed to do… Complain… It feels like that’s what they expect of you. Testing some boundary they think you have. Or maybe it’s a punishment for being built wrong, for your mind being different than what they expected.

 You can’t really tell what they had wanted or expected, you just know you’re not the desired result. A little too slow on the uptake, a little too forgetful, a little too different than the other Regens and Cuckoos. Not different enough to throw away and used for extra parts. A power too useful to be considered worthless.

 But still not valuable enough to keep in shape. Not valuable enough to feed every day. So they let you starve; one day turns into two which turns into four. They haven’t gone more than that, not yet at least. Too afraid that more would be too much for your body to handle.

 You never cared much for food anyway. You’ve forgotten to eat on your own terms more than a few times. You remember someone asking if you ever felt hungry, in return you asked what that’s supposed to feel like. She never answered you, only turned away to note something down on her clipboard.

 Really this isn’t much of a punishment. At most, you feel a little lightheaded maybe even a bit weak but that’s all. The food never had any taste so nothing really missed out on and no extreme pain their minds think you should be having. A sibling once told you to pretend. To make them think you’re in pain and suffering. You don’t get why you should do that.

 Why lie? You don’t like lying, it feels wrong and leaves a weird taste in your mouth every time you try. And… oh, you remember now.

 Your head leans gently back against the wall, eyes shutting closed. You couldn’t lie to your target. They got away because of you. That’s why they’re trying to punish you. Trying and failing. Punishment done again and again but nothing ever changes… or at least you never do.

 “Still being stupid?” you open your eyes to find a smile framed by dark hair.

 “Apparently,” your smile in response soft and kind for your sibling. A shake of their head as they sit next to you, “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

 “I’m not supposed to be anywhere right now,” they shrug, brushing their hair back with an annoyed sigh. “I brought you something.” Something pressed against your hand next to theirs. You look down to find a granola bar.

 “Ares-”

 “Don’t call me that,” they roll their eyes, “Seph needs to stop with that nonsense.”

 “You like it though,” you scrunch your face in confusion but they just shake their head in response.

 “Just eat before they catch us Morph.”

 “Don’t call me that,” you tease and they shake their head with a smile.

 “Yeah yeah, fuck off.”


	6. Rage against the reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Rage against the reflection
> 
> Tw: self-hate, self-deprecating, self-harm thought, survivors guilt
> 
> Ortega

You can’t look in the mirror, drink in one hand and your other gripping the bathroom counter like it’s the only thing that’s real. _Your fault_. It’s your fault they both died and you can’t face yourself or the ghosts that haunt your eyes.

 Every reflection caught by accident brings more pain. Disgusting failure. That’s all you can see. _Your fault_. It should have been you but it’s not. It’s not and you’re left with your reflection. Alone and wondering what you could have done.

 You take a swig of the beer, eyes catching your movements in the mirror. Mods in your hands clear for all to see. _Disgusting_. You’re a weapon for those who think themselves better but if you can’t even be used to protect those you care about what use do you really have to anyone?

  _None_. You’re useless. You’re a failure. And you can’t save anyone. You couldn’t save Anathema. You couldn’t save Sidestep.

 You look up and are meet with your brown eyes that only remind you of the wet grave dirt shoveled onto empty coffins. You grit your teeth, a sneer upon your face, “Fucking useless.” Another swig of beer only to be met with an empty bottle. Empty, just like you.

 Of course… everything always comes to an end.  You can barely hear the shattering of glass, even as you watch the bottle shatter the mirror. Your reflection broken, staring back at you accusing. All you can hear is the anger and the blame. A voice yelling in your ears, in your head. _It’s your fault_ and you almost don’t feel real enough to care. You look with a laugh into the sink studying the mixed shards of bottle and mirror.

 Broken pieces, missing pieces, mixed with something else that broke. It reminds you of when you did. When you watched the window shatter around them and you could do nothing to stop them. _Your fault_. Another hysterical little laugh. Of course, it’s your fault. You were in charge and you let them come. It should have just been you in that building. If it had been, it’d only be you that would have been hurt.

 You’re almost tempted to reach down, grab a handful of the shards. Maybe you’d feel more real, maybe it’d serve you right. You can’t though, you’re too much of a coward. You can’t even look at yourself without the hate and the disgust. Maybe that’s enough of a punishment. That every time you’ll know it was your fault.

 Your knees feel weak and you fall onto them. Out of sight of the mirror, out of sight of the broken pieces, you can’t put back together. Your head rests against the counter and you stay there broken until Wei finds you. Whispering softly to you that it’s not your fault. He’s a terrible liar and you hate that a part of you wants to believe him.


	7. Buried in Rubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Buried in Rubble
> 
> Tw: panic, being crushed/trapped
> 
> Buried in rubble with Steelchargestep

 Your eyes flutter open, the rat king screaming against the back of your mind. Telling you to move, telling you to breathe. But you can’t breathe. A heaviness resting on you, crushing you… trapping you.

 You try to remember, you try to move but the rubble at your back shifts dangerously, it’s heaviness pushing you back down. A mistake, shit, you had underestimated how damaged the building was. You were fighting the rangers… Steel…Charge…

 Don’t think their names, don’t yell out for them. _You’re alive but are they?_ The thought makes your stomach drop, panic making each breath harder to grasp. You got thrown back, they weren’t as far in when the building went. They’re fine. _They have to be fine._

 It’s your fault if they’re not. They were supposed to stop you, _although you hadn’t planned on it being this early._ Your eyes slide shut again, as you let out a soft laugh. Maybe this is for the best. You can’t hurt them anymore… at least not physically. You hope they’re okay, you hope they won’t mourn you.

 You know they will though, and it hurts that you know they’ll try to blame themselves for your actions. They shouldn’t. You’ve made your bed fully prepared to lie in it.

 Another nudge against your mind, forcing you to reopen your eyes. The rat king is panicking and all you can do is feel sorry that it’s here with you. Another victim to suffer because of your choices.

 You want to sleep, to close your eyes and forget the pain coursing through your body. To forget the feeling of being trapped and immobile. Unable to do anything, unable to breathe. But the rat king is so worried and panicked… and so is someone else.

 A faint thought, you can barely hold onto it but you know it’s there. Worried about someone, hands digging into rubble. Looking, searching… not finding. The panic grows with each of his movements that make the rubble shift precariously, dangerously. He needs to find them-

 A sudden realization, It’s Chen- _No do not think their names._ It’s Steel, looking and tearing through the rubble in a panic. Trying to find the idiot who had rushed in after Anathema… **after you**. Shit.

 Of course, Charge did. Always rushing in without thinking and now they're… what are they? You pray to anyone willing to listen that they’re alive. That Steel will find them, get them help, get them as far away as possible. You should know better now that hope and empty prayers have done nothing for you.

 You feel so weak, you feel so tired. And in some moment of clarity, you realize you’re terrified. You don’t want to die here, in the darkness feeling trapped. It reminds you of the days spent in a hospital bed, unable to move any part of your body. Maybe you’re still there, maybe none of this is real.

 Maybe there was never any stolen kisses from Ortega and Chen. Maybe there was no one who comforted you from the countless nightmares that haunt you. Maybe there was no one who looked at you and saw something more than what you are. Maybe it was all fake, something you made up to escape the farm.  

 Another press against your mind, trying to soothe and calm. Rat king trying its best to show that this is real, that you’re here. Worried that maybe that thought is worse because that means you’ll realize… you’re trapped, under rubble with your chest being slowly crushed.

 Oh, that at least explains the steadily growing pain that wrecks your body with each gasp. A small burst of relief, voices muffled by the world around you. He must have found them. Chen did it, he saved Ortega and the two of them are safe and feel so far away. That’s good, that’s-

 Your eyes slide shut again, the pain becoming a distant memory. And you lie there, a faint awareness that slowly fades. The pressure against your mind becoming soft and sad. You don’t hear the rubble as it shifts around you. You don’t feel the light of the sun that hits you.


	8. Can only move the eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Discord request @Katrine
> 
> Can only move the eyes
> 
> Sidestep and Ortega; Sidestep can’t move; After Rebirth as Villain
> 
> Tw: character death, blood

 You can’t move your head as you lie broken on the ground. Your entire body twisted at an awkward angle and you’re forced to watch. Watch through your shattered mask, _shattered just like your body_ , watching as Ortega struggles across the ground crawling towards you. Trying so hard to reach you as they leave a trail of blood and tears behind them. They can see you. Can see your eyes and bloodied face. You can’t move. Can’t run away from them…can’t run towards them.

 “CB,” your name said in a broken gasp. They stop, forehead resting against the ground, body shaking in pain. You want to speak, to reach out and touch them. But no matter how hard you try nothing moves and your voice feels lost. _Broken and gone like the rest of you_.

 Ortega shifts looking back up at you, their face bruised and cut, tears mixing with blood and dirt. “CB I need you to say something,” they beg trying so hard to close the distance between you. It’s useless though, your voice caught in your throat, your body becoming so very numb.

 You want to reach out and wipe away their tears, to clear away the hurt and pain, to tell them you’re sorry for getting them into this mess. They’re so close now, their hand just barely able to touch yours but stopped short. So close…

 You can hear steps behind you, crunching into the dirt and destruction. You watch as Ortega’s face drops in terror. Frozen as they look at at the shadow that towers over the both of you. _Reach out, reach out, please. Talk to me. Lie to me. Tell me it’s over._ Your thoughts loud and begging but thrown into empty static. They’ll never hear you, _they’ll never know_.

~~_I love you._ ~~

 You can hear the steps stop just behind you, the sound of rustling fabric as the presence kneels so very close. Words whispered sweetly, scratching against your ears mercilessly, “It’s time to go home.”

 You close your eyes, begging for this nightmare to end. It does for one of you at least, in the sound of a gunshot. _  
_

_A hand resting against yours._


	9. I ain’t got time to bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Discord request @smuteczekbiczo
> 
> I ain’t got time to bleed
> 
> Herald pov last stand against Villain
> 
> TW: Blood

 Your hand grips your side as blood spills through your fingers, your knees digging into the ground. You take a shuddering breath in. You can’t stop, you can’t give up. _Breathe in, breathe out_. You’re the only one left, your team is down and their bodies are strewn across the destruction left by the battle with Sidestep. You don’t know who’s alive… who’s dead.

  It’s left on your shoulders to stop this imposter. A crushing weight of duty that may just kill you and you’re left with no other choice but to grit your teeth and stand. No flying, _not yet_ , you remember your lessons well and right now you need to be on the ground, you need to be balanced.

 “Not giving up then,” a distorted voice that echoes in the empty streets. You look up, your face turning into a snarl.

 “I’m not going to give up. I **will** stop you,” you can feel the anger running through you, mixing with the adrenaline. Stand up straight, let your hand fall from your side, ignore the pain, ignore the blood. You will stop them. No matter the cost.

 They shake their head, laughing, “So be it.” They don’t hesitate, steps fast and sure as they rush you. Just like you wanted, just like you’re sure they know what you wanted. _A telepath,_ you’re sure of it. So you let your mind drift, let your instincts take charge. You can handle this, you can take them down.

**_A smile that matches yours, blocking your blow with a laugh._ **

  _Block the attack_ , ignore the way your feet slide back and the pain that shoots through your arms. _Use their weight against them_ , **_a stern expression hands moving to show you exactly how_** , make them unbalanced while you remain grounded and even.

 A growl of frustration as you dodge another attack, _rely on your ability to move fast and dance around your opponent._ **_Don’t let up, don’t let them get a chance to hit you, a smirk as they use their fingers to flick you between your eyes_**.

 You can feel yourself falling into a familiar rhythm. Hit, dodge, retreat. Ignore the tears rolling down your cheeks as each blow becomes more and more familiar. A rhythm so like that of breathing. It’s one you shared with only one other person.

  ** _Haunted eyes look back at you_** through a mask you can’t truly see into.

 You hesitate, your thoughts going a direction you’d rather not think about. That you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. A sudden breathless moment, their fist against your chest but no strength behind it. You stand facing each other, unmoving.

  _You can almost feel your heartbreaking with each second that passes._

 “Do you finally get it?” soft words made harsh by their distorter. Fist opening so their fingers are splayed across your chest.

 You do, you finally understand so much… and you know you’re left with only one choice as you feel your blood run down your stomach, down your leg. You try to hold back the helpless sob, the anger gone, replaced by despair. Only one choice left but to fly.

_And eventually…_

_Fall._


	10. Brainwashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Brainwashing
> 
> Chen and Kiyo; Broken sidestep completely brainwashed and unable to recognize Chen or their old name. Only the mission matters.
> 
> TW: Misgendering
> 
> Spoilers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: Bad things happen bingo: Brainwashing with Chen and Sidestep (I’m personally v fond of Kiyo). But as an idea- the Farm won. They broken Sidestep when they got them back and remade them as a perfect cuckoo, and then sent them back out on missions one of which leads to them meeting present Marshal Steel(... and not recognising him or their old name as SIDESTEP is dead, only the mission is important.)

**KB 395** :

 “Hmm, you don’t speak much do you…” the woman asks as she lifts her drink to her lips, bored and truly uninterested in your existence but she doesn’t know that you know that. She only knows that you’re here to protect her, she’s your mission and nothing else matters. How it’s supposed to be. How it’s always been.

 She watches you, annoyance clear as you ignore her, focusing on the world around you. You’ll probably regret it later when there are fewer eyes around but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re not supposed to care anyway, your only worry should ever be your mission and currently, your mission is to focus on keeping her safe at a party that is already too loud. Too dangerous, but you doubt that she’ll leave because of a little danger.

  You feel your mind pulled towards another. A mind that’s harsh and guarded, alive with a familiarity that causes an immediate headache. You unconsciously rub the spot between the middle of your eyes willing it to go away but it keeps growing, louder and louder. Disbelief, confusion. Whoever this is seems fully intent on you and not her. You should move on, focus on someone else but you can’t help but turn your head, eyes focusing on the man who is staring at you.

 You can almost hear the words he breathes out when your eyes meet. A small insignificant word. One you don’t really know but feel like you should.

“ _Kiyo_.”

…

  **Steel** :

 The same grey eyes, the same face, same black hair though it’s longer than you ever would’ve expected him to wear. Sidestep. _Kiyo_ … he wears himself differently than you remember, his awkwardness and uncomfortableness are hidden deep behind blank confidence. He should be dead but here he is, at a party for the cities elite. It is not a place you ever expected to see him and for a second you think all your seeing is a ghost over another.

 But the scars are too right, too familiar. Left scar under his eye from the time he took a knife for you, the right scar on his cheek from something else. You remember the day he showed up at the rangers with it. Refusing to tell Ortega how he got it. You remember the way Ortega fussed over him for months after. You remember him hiding from Ortega by bugging you instead. Infuriating, annoying, and yet you still feel the emptiness when you look over your shoulder expecting to see him.

  Not like now, now he’s real staring at you with blank grey eyes. There’s no spark in his eyes, no fear of you haveing seen him. Not even a hint that he knows it’s you he’s staring at. You can’t help but move forward, towards him. To demand answers, to have him yell at you, anything to erase the building worry in your mind.

  _He feels too off, too different._

  You watch his movements carefully as you approach. The way he almost flinches as you finally reach him. The way he hides it easily from everyone but you. You open your mouth to speak, to find your voice that seems so very lost but the young woman next to him interrupts you.

“Is there a problem?” a sweet smile spitting words like venom.

 “No… I’m sorry, you just look incredibly familiar,” your focus stays on him. Your mind daring him to speak. To tell you off, to do anything that will feel right and not be met with the empty blankness that he currently is. He stares back, making no move to speak or even recognize that your speaking to him.

 “Really?” she leans closer to you, forcing your eyes onto her. Her curiosity clear on her face, “She doesn’t speak much but I’m incredibly interested to know who she reminds you of.”

 “She?” it takes a moment to even register the wrong pronoun and another to notice the way Kiyo’s hands ball into fists next to his side, hidden from the woman’s sight. The woman tilts her head, like a predator watching her prey as she studies you. “Sorry. Maybe I truly am mistaken.” You’re not. You know you’re not. But something feels off, especially with the way Kiyo’s expression never changes.

 “Oh. How disappointing,” she huffs out, grabbing her drink and swirling it.

  You nod your head in apology as you leave. Expecting… _hoping_ that he’ll speak up. Say something, anything. But there’s nothing but emptiness and silence at your back. A sudden thought and fear, is this your fault for giving up? For not looking into his disappearance further?

 You can’t leave it like this… can’t leave him like this. You need answers.

…

**KB 395** :

 “So did you know him?” she asks bored, popping an olive into her mouth.

 “No,” you truly have no clue who he is. And for some reason, that thought causes you an unfamiliar pain that’s quickly pushed away. You have a job to do that far more important than you’ll ever be.


	11. Forced to Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Forced to Watch
> 
> Chargestep (I went ahead and did some past Chargestep!)
> 
> TW: Blood, violence

  You move fast, your steps soft and light as you move along the upper rafters. You can feel yourself trembling in fear, trying to shield yourself against a broken, terrifying mind. It has Orte- Charge. _Don’t think their name, disconnect to try and make this easier_. It doesn’t work. _It doesn’t work_ and you can’t help the tears that stain your mask.

 You’ve faced opponent after opponent with Ortega. Been in deadly situations and still survived it all. _Shared kisses of desperation during each moment you could, afraid to say what is really between the both of you._ This feels so different than those other times. You’re terrified and you don’t think either of you will be getting out of this alive.

 You feel your steps falter as you watch Castrofiend tower over Charge. Who is kneeling, hurt and bruised, a smirk of defiance on their face even as you see the bruises forming on their cheek and the blood dripping down from the cut on their forehead. You try to reach out with your mind knowing full well you’ll only be met with static. You can’t help it though, can’t help that last bit of desperation to make sure they know you’re here.

  _That they won’t die alone._

 **Stop** , you can’t think like that. You can’t…

 You take a shuddering breath, checking your pistol. It’s on the highest setting but you doubt It will even feel the sting from your gun. Another step, to make sure you have a clear aim. But the metal beneath your foot groans and you find yourself catching the scream clawing its way up your throat as the floor plummets from beneath you.

 “Sidestep!” Ortega’s voice filled with fear as you hang dangerously from the rafter, your hand gripping tightly even as your own blood slicks your fingers. You look down and you watch helplessly as Castrofiend lifts its blades.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, time slows down and you suddenly realize exactly how weak you are and how very human you feel in this moment. You’re frozen as you watch the Castrofiend’s blades slide into Ortega’s back and through their stomach. Frozen as their eyes meet yours widening slightly in shock before they fall forward. And you’re stuck, hanging helplessly as you watch them hit the ground, blood pooling beneath them.

 You’re sobbing, and when Its eyes turn to you almost feel your strength leave you as your hand starts to slip. It moves toward you with purpose and you force yourself to focus. If you can take It down maybe… maybe you can save Ortega. _A small hope that you know is worthless._ You will save them, you have too.

 You stuff your gun into your jacket, other hand gripping the metal to help pull yourself back up. You need a plan. One that will take It down fast.

  _You just need to ignore exactly how motionless, how still, how lifeless Ortega looks on the ground…_


	12. Painful wound cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Painful wound cleaning
> 
> Sentinel and Kiyo; one gets in a bad situation without backup so the other has to help while trying not to get found out
> 
> Tw: Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: As I love how you write Sentinel- for the BPBingo- painful wound clean with a Sentinel and Kiyo, one gets hurt in a bad situation without backup so the other has to help while trying not to get found perhaps?

It had been an accident, a simple mistake and misstep that led you into a fight you definitely couldn’t win alone. And then Sentinel had shown up… and everything got ten times worse.

 “Shit,” he hisses as you pour alcohol into one of the many holes left in his arm and you can’t help but wince in sympathy. You’ve got spikes in your side too but you won’t be able to deal with them until later. At least if you can get most of the poison out of Sentinel he might be able to fly without the dizziness.

 “Shhh, we don’t need spike fucker hearing us,” your mind unintentionally reaches out triple checking that you’re safe. You can feel him about a few blocks away from your stash station. You’ve got some time, not much though.

 He grits his teeth as you use pliers to remove another spike, leaving another bleeding hole oozing a mix of red and purple. “You got hit too didn’t you,” a statement rather than a question. He knows you did even though you’ll never admit it. You ignore him choosing to instead study the spike you removed realizing the tip is broken. Fuck. You look back at the gushing wound and you know you’re going to have to dig in to get the broken piece of poisonous spike out.

 “…This…fuck. This one is going to hurt bad Sentinel,” you pull your mask up a bit, the scent of alcohol and decay strong between the both of you. His head hits the wall in response, and he takes a breath as he closes his eyes.

 “Do it.”

 “You may want to bite this,” you rummage through your bag finding and holding out a strip of leather towards him. He takes it weighing it on his hand.

 “Kiyo,” your name said softly on his lips, while his frown has the weight of the world on it, “How often do you do this for yourself?” he’s looking at you, trying to meet your eyes hidden behind your mask. You could close your eyes, pretend that the stares means nothing but instead you look away.

 You’re afraid, _always so fucking afraid_. It’s moments like these you think how easy it might be, to tell the truth. To have someone, anyone know what you are. How easy if he rejected you, you could let him die… but you couldn’t do that to him, to anyone. No matter the hate, the fear, the disgust. You’d save him and end up sentencing yourself to a fate worse than death.

 It’s better for everyone if you stay quiet and ignore the way your chest constricts in pain at that decision. _It’s just the poison. That’s all._

 “You don’t want to know the answer to that,” you shake your head in reply. He thinks he does but you know better. If you told him clearly that you’ve always stitched yourself back up without help he’d feel guilt. Guilt for not being there for you, for letting you suffer alone.

 He frowns in response, an argument on the tip of his tongue but you hold up the pliers clacking them together. A silent warning of ‘ _you better hurry up and shove the leather in your mouth_ ’. He shakes his head exasperated, a silent look of we will talk about this later, before sticking the leather into his mouth, biting down and giving you a nod of his head.

 You won’t be discussing it later. You’re a master of avoiding your problems after all.


	13. Dying in arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Dying in arms
> 
> Dr. Mortum and puppet; (I went ahead and kinda used Luna since she has the mirror image achievement) (Also my dumbass brain forgot to reread your ask before writing this so it’s a bit different than what you asked I’m sorry!! Also Thank you!!!)
> 
> Tw: nondescriptive wound, character death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: HERES AN IDEA! Dr Mortrum angst inbound== Bingo dying in arms, Sidestep of your choice decides to cut losses as thinks their other body as has been compromised, so kills them off or puts them into a “coma” both as a show of power to make Dr more compliant and also to end the conflicting emotions centred around the good doctor either as bff or something more 2 pupet. Worst thing is Mortrum wouldn’t know it as a lost cause ergo cradling puppet and heartbreak ensues.(love ur work btw!!!! U rock!!!)

**Dr. Mortum:**

 You can barely comprehend what’s happening. No rather… you can’t comprehend what’s happened. It happened so fast, _nothing you can do, nothing you could do to stop it._ And you watch, _helpless_ , as she falls, body crumpling to the ground and all that’s left is a smoking gun in an enemy’s hand. You don’t let yourself think, a wave of calm anger overcoming you. Guiding your own hand on the trigger of your own gun.

 They don’t stand a chance against you and your weapon and before they even hit the ground you are by her side. Brushing away her tears as she painfully gasps for breath.

 “Mon amour,” you choke back a sob, your hand moving over the wound trying to stop the flow. Your head already going over how you can save her, each thread being cut one by one as you realize you can’t save her. You’re stranded so far from home with none of your tools and no way to contact someone who could help.

 You’re in a situation where you can’t win and she knows it. She knows it as her smile turns soft, as her hand reaches weakly for yours,  fingers brushing and curling against your hand pulling it away from the wound.

 “I’m sorry,” tears stain her cheeks. She looks so broken, so weak. _You can’t save her._

 “There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” you pull her body close, cradling her head against your chest. You kiss her forehead softly, your tears mixing with hers. You may be squeezing tighter than you should, hanging on to a thread that’s burning fast towards your fingers. An inevitable end and yet you feel like this is something _you_ could have prevented.

 “There is… there is so much for me to apologize for,” she sobs, a cough getting stuck in her throat. Her hands come up gripping your shirt as she murmurs soft apologies, until her fingers lose strength, hands falling back down. “You’ll know the truth one day,” her words soft you pull back, watching as her eyes close and her body starts to grow limp. “And I need you to know. I.. will always….lov…”

 Words left unsaid, but they don’t need to be said for you to know. You forget about time, forget about the world. _All that’s left is you and a body that grows colder with each broken sob.  
_

…

 You walk carefully across the grass to her grave. A nice headstone, simple and to the point carrying a single name. You didn’t pay for it, you think maybe it had been her boss but your sources couldn’t confirm it. An unspoken sign that you should have listened to them, _that she’s dead because of you._

 Your fingers brush gently against the cold stone covered in vines and flowers. Your other hand subconsciously adjusts your glasses, hiding the tears that sting your eyes. It feels like it’s been forever since it happened but it wasn’t that long ago, _everything still feels broken and out of place._ You still catch yourself looking over shoulder as you work on a project, a question on the edge of your tongue. Only to realize, _there is no one there to answer._

 No one there to throw peanuts at your head, to fill your empty lab with laughter. You didn’t think something like this… _someone like her_ would affect you this much. But here you are back at her grave like clockwork.

 A glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye has your head turning, and you find yourself staring at her broken image. A woman, older and tougher but she’s somehow every bit the woman that had died in your arms. You shake your head, fist rubbing the tiredness from your eyes.

 When you look back up you’re only met with the back of someone leaving the graveyard.


	14. Panic attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Panic attack
> 
> Dr. Mortum and my sidestep Morgan Lace
> 
> Tw: panic attack, mentions of abuse
> 
> SPOILERS!

 You try so hard to ignore it. Focusing on a point past Mortum, ignoring the way his hands feel against your skin, ignoring the panic that’s climbing into your throat as your eyes are drawn to his face. It’s not showing him the truth that sends your mind and body into a panic. It’s the realization that he’s not really seeing you, you’re a scientific fascination to him. Nothing more, nothing less. _Just like them._

 You can feel the sweat dripping down your back, your breathing is so hard to keep under control. Your mind supplying you with thoughts and memories. Suddenly it’s just another scientist in front of you, angry and full of venom. _You didn’t know what you did wrong._ No orders ever came, you survived, waiting…

 For nothing.

 And discovered everything. Discovered what it felt like to be something else, something more. That for all your defects people still cared about you. Maybe that’s where you went wrong. Thinking like that, that you could be more. That people would care if you disappeared.

  _They were so angry and you were so broken_. Body and mind shattered, so confused as to what you did wrong. Some might have called it naivety, holding onto the hope that when they found you again it would be different. Somehow, someway it would be different.

  ** _It was so much worse._**

 You held on _because what other home have you truly known._ Hurts downplayed, some even forgotten. You knew you had to go home eventually, so why remember the bad? Why remember the days spent without food, why remember the fear every time _volunteers_ were asked for.

 Why remember _bloodied_ _faces_ soft lips you can never hope to see again.

 If anything, the bad of the past could never have matched the bad that they inflicted on you. Or the way you knew it was wrong. There is no naivety, there was never any naivety to protect you. Just denial and excuses. _You’re not real so why does it matter. You are a tool._

_You are a tool._

_You are a tool_

_You are a-_

“Morgan!” a voice cracking through your mind, filled with worry. It shouldn’t be. You’re a tool who thought it could wield itself but in the end all you’ve done is hurt people you care about. “Morgan,” your name said again this time the voice is so soft, so much softer than what they would have used.

 It draws you back to the present, you on the floor, your arm squeezing your knees into your chest. You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to regain balance. You’re in Mortum’s lab… telling him the truth… showing him the truth.

 You look at him, kneeling next to you. Hands to himself and an unreadable expression on his face as he studies you. Studies but not like before, not like a scientist looking at a tool. He’s studying you like a person unsure how to act towards you. Afraid of moving wrong, of saying the wrong thing.

 And it helps settle your mind, you’re here.

  ** _You are here._**


	15. Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Memory Loss
> 
> Ortega and Sidestep
> 
> Thank you! I was so happy to read this that I ended up reading it multiple times!! I’m glad you’ve both enjoyed the stories so much!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: Hey socks! Love your work on here also so does my gf, she gets really excited when she sees new stuff on your blog and the amount of times she’s shoved me off the couch so that I’ll read an angsts one with her is a blessing (we both love the gerbil incident the best tho). Saw Bingo come up so thought I’d put a surprise request in for her: Charge with n!Step Memory loss, Ortega finds really a civilian Step at that cafe but Step doesn’t remember them; they really were a John/ane Doe after HB. Thank you!

 It’s a broken rush of air, a word whispered and then almost shouted. It couldn’t be them… it couldn’t and yet here they were. Sitting at a table in a dinner you had stepped into by chance.

 A single chance that’s immediately turned your world upside down. They don’t seem to hear you or acknowledge that you’ve said their name. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe you’re seeing things in a person who looks so like them.

 But then they look up. Eyes meeting yours for a second before turning back to the food in front of them. And despite the lack of recognition in their face you know it’s them. They’re unmistakable, their features burned into your mind from hours of looking at a broken photograph.

 "CB is that really you?“ Your steps have brought you towards them and they look up at you confused. Body moving subtly into a defensive stance. A rush of fear widening their eyes as they stare at you.

 "I’m sorry what?” Their face runs through emotions, reexamining what you said before scrunching in confusion, studying you cautiously as you stop inches from their table.

 "CB it’s me,“ your voice sounds desperate even to your own ears, “Don’t kid like this. I thought you were dead.”

 "I’m sorry but I think you’re confused. I really don’t know who you are and that’s not my name,“ they shake their head, looking at you apologetically. Still defensive but coming to the conclusion you’ve made a mistake. You haven’t. You swear you haven’t. This… this isn’t what you expected. Fuck, you didn’t even expect to find them alive let alone this.

 You want to argue, say something more but you’re cut off by another voice. One that sends chills down your spine. An echo of the past brought straight to the present.

 "Eden is everything alright?” Hallow Ground asks and you can’t help the glare you send their way as they take the seat across from CB. Their smile like a viper as they bring their elbows onto the table, head leaning into their hands.

 "Everything’s fine, just a mix-up,“ CB says casually with a shrug, leaning back into their seat as they immediately relax. Their face is soft and open. No lies, no secrets that are usually hidden by masks upon masks. It’s so different from what you remember. So different compared to Hallow Ground. Whose face holds barely contained contempt towards you.

 Hollow Ground. CB is with Hollow Ground. It’s a punch to the gut you had never expected. You found them only to have them immediately wrenched from your hands again. You don’t know what Hollow Ground has done to them but you can’t leave them like this… with them.

 "Listen to me, I don’t know what’s going on with you but your name is CB. This person is not your friend. You are Side-”

 "I think that’s enough,“ Hollow Ground’s hand slams on the table, drawing your attention fully back to them. “This obviously isn’t who you believe it to be and I think it’s time you accepted that.” A sharp smile twitching on their lips as they stare you down.

 "Maybe we should just go,“ CB’s voice sounds so soft, so careful. Tones used by someone who is afraid of making another angry. It almost hurts to hear exactly how scared they are right now. And when your head snaps back to them it’s clear to see that it’s you they’re scared of.

 "Of course Eden, why don’t you head out to the car,” Hollow Ground’s voice is sweet and calming, eyes soft as they watch CB leave without a fight. Their face turning to stone as the door swings shut behind CB. “You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong Charge.”

 "What did you do to them?“ You grit your teeth not bothering to hide your anger.

 "All I did,” they slap cash on the table as they stand to lean close to whisper, “Was be there for someone you abandoned.”

 You can’t find a response for that, what can you even say to that? There is no comeback that will make it so you found CB after heartbreak. No way you can demand them let CB go. For better or worse CB trusts Hollow Ground more than the stranger you are now to them.


	16. Wound that would not heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Wound that would not heal
> 
> (kinda twisted the trope a bit)
> 
> Kiyo Basri
> 
> Tw: suicidal thoughts, intrusive thoughts

 It’s been years. Years of trying, years of finding your footing. And yet here you stand again. On the edge of the balcony wondering if you should take the plunge.

 You won’t. You’ve done too much, have too much to loose now. It’s just a thought. A thought forever burned into your mind. It tells you your worst qualities, that you shouldn’t be alive. It tells you that you’re a burden everyone will come to regret.

 It’s a thought. Just a thought. You don’t want to die, you don’t truly think you’re a burden to those you love.

 But here you stand, looking down at the street. Remembering the feel of pavement and the taste of broken teeth. Wondering if that moment of pain might be worth it.

 It wouldn’t be. It really wouldn’t. You’d regret leaving the people you love behind to bury your broken corpse. You’d regret the nights Ortega would spend blaming himself, blaming Chen. And Chen would take it. Shoulder the blame to try and ease Ortega’s pain. It would never be their fault though.

 You shake your head. Closing your eyes as you lean against the railing. It’s a thought. Just a thought.

 A thought that always comes back. No matter the therapy, no matter the drugs, no matter how hard you try to get better. It’s a thought your mind has conditioned into your head. You know it’s wrong. An annoying pest you haven’t been able to fully weed out.

 You may never weed it out. You may always think these thoughts. No matter how happy you are, no matter the situation. It’ll be there, a string of words that worm itself into your mind. Trying to ruin you. Bring you back down to its level. It’s a fight you’ll have to keep facing.

 You’ve accepted that. For now at least. Healing a bone is always faster than healing a mind. It takes time, sometimes even your whole life. So you accept you’ll have the thoughts.

 They may bring you pain. May bring a burst of sadness and anxiety. That’s okay because you’re stronger than those thoughts. And for those times when you’re not, you have people who will stand beside you. Willing to help pull you from the edge and remind you of better things.

 "Kiyo?“ Ortega’s voice is soft as he opens the sliding glass door. You take a breath, enjoying the rush of cool air taken into your lungs.

 "I’m fine,” you look back at him with a tired smile. You are fine. They’re just thoughts. Thoughts you push away and swallow back down. You have better things to think, better things to remember, better things to be doing right now.


	17. Bedside Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Bedside Vigil
> 
> steelstep/ past chargestep
> 
> TW: Hospitals, Character comatose, (ask to tag)

_You swat away the flies, the heat almost unbearable as it seems to seep into your every pore. You hate this feeling of helplessness. But what else can you do? You can only wait and hope that Ortega wakes up soon. Hope that their mods will be charged in time. Hope that your last moments won’t be here; with them asleep and you so very awake._

_You glance at them. Watching the steady rise of their chest, your eyes instinctively pulling up to their face where bruises steadily form with each passing second. You almost lost them… and that thought brings with it an unsteady mix of emotions you’re not used to._

_What would you have done if you couldn’t have gotten them out of there? You don’t know and that’s terrifying to you. You don’t know what you would have done with a mixture of despair and pure unbridled rage swirling in you. Lit and thrown like a cocktail of emotions that could easily set fire to the world around it._

_You arm lays against the bed, your hand so close to theirs but not truly touching it. Afraid to wake them… afraid to be the first to reach out and admit that you care more than a little about them. You try to blink away the tears that hurt your eyes. To pretend it’s just the overwhelming heat and the unending buzzing flies that makes every bit of yourself feel too much._

_You almost lost them… You almost lost Ortega…_

_A **warm** hand placed over yours…_

 Your eyes flutter open, mind putting up defenses as you try to figure out where you are. The soft beeping of a machine, the sound of footsteps and chatter. Your eyes clear and you’re looking at a wall as your head rests on the side of a bed. The feeling of a cold hand gripped tightly by your own.

  _No mind to great you. No annoyance, no soft happiness._

_Still so empty._

 Tears rush to your eyes and unlike the past, you don’t fight them. Letting them stain the white bedsheet beneath your head. He’s still not awake… He may never awaken again. There’s nothing you can do, nothing that will bring Chen back to you.

 Your fault. You got cocky thinking they wouldn’t think to target Chen. Thinking they wouldn’t know about the growing emotions between you or the stolen kisses you’ve had from him. Always filled with desperation, a silent plea to stop taking the path you’ve found yourself on. You couldn’t stop. No matter how hard you tried, no matter the tears shed between you.

 And now your here. A destination you should have expected but so ignorantly ignored. They hurt him, they broke him. Because they knew it would, in turn, hurt you, it would break you. Unfortunately, no one told them to beware the shards of glass, flying in all directions and bound to hurt the hand who dared to break it.

 This isn’t the past. This isn’t Ortega. This is you and Chen in a situation you know you can’t win. There’s no amount of recharging that will bring back his shattered mind. No amount of hope. You almost laugh at that. Hope. Like you had any left in the first place.

 No, all you have is despair and a promise. A promise to him that you’ll stay by his side until the end. A promise to yourself that everyone will pay. You’re not afraid anymore. You know where to aim the cocktail now and everyone in its path will burn.


	18. Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Loneliness
> 
> Sentinel during heartbreak aftermath and going through Kiyo’s apartment
> 
> Tw: Heartbreak stuff and Canonical character death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: For bad things happen bingo (if still taking) Loneliness with Sentinel, he wasn’t there for the Heartbreak incident so would be getting everything second hand, perhaps with Thief version of Sidestep (Kiyo wasn’t it?). Losing people as a hero is tough but this one would be personal (who would get their/CBs stuff in the case of HB? Divided between rangers? Would he even have a will? What would they find?)

_**Sentinel:** _

 The door swings open to the small apartment and you step in to find almost every inch of it filled. A shelf of broken cups, bits and pieces of trophies from villains fought, stuffed animals and pillows piled onto a small bed in the corner, and more things that would take hours if not days to go through. The room gives off a feeling of a space that’s been lived in and carefully made to only be understood by its owner.

 It’s harder than you expected, being here, knowing Kiyo was never coming back. You take in a breath before stepping further in and shutting the door softly behind you. You couldn’t afford to be there during Heartbreak and now it lies on your shoulders alone to go through his things.

  _“I don’t think I can do this,” Ortega’s voice cracks, pink jacket gripped in his hand as he stands frozen on the steps. He can’t look at you and you can tell his mask is cracking with each step that brings him towards Kiyo’s home._

 So you took the keys. Left him alone to mourn in silence and let him break apart while you stand as his strength for just a moment. You’re all falling apart piece by piece. Being heroes, facing the dangers that you’re expected to face, losing the people who stand by your sides as allies and friends. It’s finally hit you all so incredibly hard. You’re not sure if their deaths were just the final straw or it was the feeling of invincibility they both gave off that made this all feel like a promise broken.

 The promise that Anathema was invincible and that he’d make it through any attack, any outcome and come out unscathed. The promise that Kiyo could plan for anything and anything that couldn’t be planned for could be out lucked. Shattered promises that sounds so much like the glass of a window breaking.

 You swallow your tears as you begin to move through his things. No will, no connections, nothing but this small apartment room is left of the man that used to come to you for advice. Asking questions to things you didn’t know how to explain but gave you a kinship with him you hadn’t expected. Even when sometimes those questions were to purposely fluster you in order to lighten the situation.

 Two friends, two family members, two people too young lost to the cruelty of the world and you will never know why. Because they’ll say it was some kind of virus, some kind of disease. Deny that it was a psychic attack and hide anything that suggests what truly happened.

 ‘ _They died as heroes protecting the city._ ’

 No. They died by their own hands, alone and in utter despair.

 Your fingers drag along the books on the top level of his bookcase. Complicated titles mixed with technological how to’s and a few fantasy titles. You stop over a book you had given him. A book on aircrafts and the machinery that makes them fly. You pull it from the shelf only to have a stack of papers slip from the bookcase sliding to the floor.

 “Shit,” you bend down to pick them up only to hesitate as you notice the sloppily drawn images covering each page. A self-portrait of himself, Ortega with a rare awkward smile, Anathema sipping a milkshake and ready to throw a cherry at the viewer, Steel arms crossed with a frown studying a map… you sitting on a couch with your head in your hands looking embarrassed. More and more drawings of you all until you come across an image of a group of people you don’t recognize.

 Each person left undefined almost as if drawn from a hazy memory; a person covered in scars taller than the others, a woman with dark skin looking away from the others, several others so hard to make out because they’ve been erased and drawn over so many times. All of it leaving a single person in a bit clearer focus. They look like Kiyo but you get a distinct feeling that they are not. Too feminine in shape, the eye’s far too sharp compared to how Kiyo drew his.

  ** _A sibling?_**

 You set the drawings down, sitting back against the bookcase. Hand coming up to your mouth as you close your eyes, realization ringing in your head. These people could have been Kiyo’s family or his friends. Were they left behind with his old life? Or maybe it was Kiyo who was left alone and forgotten. He’s obviously been out of touch, the drawings hazy, undefined and almost drawn with what seems like desperation compared to the images of you and the Rangers.

 You wonder if they know if they care that he’s been gone for so long… that he’s never coming back. You could be wrong, just a random group of people drawn as practice. But the work that has been done over and over again says otherwise to you. It tells a story of memories fading as he desperately tried to hold on to them.

 You wonder if it’ll be like that for all of you as well. Slowly forgetting what he looked like because there are no images but a hastily drawn self-portrait that’s been left behind. Eventually, he’ll become a hazy, undefined memory you try to desperately remember only to have it slip away.

 Kiyo’s gone…Anathema’s gone… Steel and Ortega have both been left scarred from their encounter with Heartbreak…and you… you are realizing how alone you feel being the only one left behind. The only one who could have saved Kiyo from his fall, but couldn’t because you were thought to be the only one that would have never stood a chance against Heartbreak.

. _And what hurts the most is knowing how alone Kiyo and Anathema must have felt in their final moments._


	19. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero Fanfic
> 
> Friendly Fire
> 
> Argent’s experience being controlled
> 
> Tw: mind control, no control over yourself, ask to tag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: Was replaying Fallen hero and suddenly realized how well Argent’s mind being taken over fits ironically with ‘friendly fire’ as she says it’s like the invader was “one of their own”, a friend. So for the bingo could I have Argents perspective of her mind being taken over for the first time/at the start. Thank you!

**Argent:**

 It’s like a dream that’s slow to start, your movements slow as your intentions falter. Out of step until it’s not you that’s blinking, not you that is thinking. Your body is so far away and out of your control as the world around you loses its definition.

 Each piece, each sense slowly stripped away until the world is almost left undefined. They’re shapes, everything is a shape without a name. No words to define it, no need to think. A haze of softness that is calming and odd enveloping your mind.

_It’s a dream._

 A dream where your feet land with an unfamiliar weight and pattern. You’re walking with a movement that isn’t yours, thoughts speaking in a voice you can’t quite hear, scrambled and foreign. It’s supposed to be you, you think, but it’s too different. It doesn’t set right in your head.

 You don’t know where you are, where you’re going. You try to speak but find you can’t, your throat tightens, legs still carry you forward even as you try to remember how to stop. It’s so hard to think and every time you try it’s like trying to climb a slippery wall.

 There’s no purchase to find and your thoughts fall back into the haze unable to think clearly. Something in your gut tells you, you should be panicking. That something is wrong, that this dream feels just a bit too real.

 But it’s pushed away, a soft ocean breeze that wipes clear the rising realizations. You’re walking, in a building that should be familiar but for some reason is not. Everything is twisted, at odd angles. You see your reflection in something but you can’t recognize it as your own. The lips are held wrong, your eyes remind you of someone else’s anger.

  _It’s just a dream._

 You lose track of yourself, floating in a void of nothingness even as the world passes around you. It’s a dream, that’s why you look wrong, why what you’re feeling is so very off.

  _A dream, a dream, a dream._

 Until it suddenly warps, panic overwhelming as a familiar voice rings out. Your body turns, and you see him but can’t remember why he’s familiar. Or why there’s a sudden burst of anger filling your veins. You hate him.

  ~~ _He took what should have been yours._~~

 A thought that scrambles and you lose the words but not the feeling. Your fist moves without your say. Punching a face that’s too bright and you feel so much hate for that face.

**Not you. It’s not you.**

  **You’re losing control.**

Fear mixed with an overwhelming ferocity beating at the forefront of your mind.

  ** _You’re losing control._**

  _You’re losing control._

**_Someone stop me._ **

Thoughts mixing, echoing, reverberating back and forth until you’re unsure if you’re truly the only one speaking. Another’s voice too distorted, too strange, too unfamiliar to recognize.

_It’s a nightmare._

 A nightmare that you realize gives off the feeling of desperation with an aftertaste of regret. You’re running, lungs burning and for a second everything is so very clear.

  _Stop me, stop me, please stop me._

  Words chanting, echoing your own thoughts. Louder and louder until you’re dragged back under. Feelings that feel so incredibly foreign extinguished as the world fades back into a cacophony of shapes and colors. You’re aware but you’re not awake. You want to wake up, you don’t want to be hurting Herald no matter how much he annoys you, **you want to stop**. You want the pain that’s clawing against your mind, burning against your skin **to** **stop**.

  _ **You want to stop.**_

  And you know, somewhere in your mind, where it’s stopped twisting and turning and burning, that so do they.


	20. Ambulance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Ambulance
> 
> Ending my bingo with Kiyo, Ortega, and Steel!
> 
> Tw: Heartbreak stuff!!!
> 
> Spoilers!!

_Kiyo:_

_Broken glass, broken bones, broken skin._

_**Broken mind.**_

_It should be a relief, finally done, finally over but you’re still alive, barely breathing. Feeling every ounce of pain until it becomes your new normal as you lay bleeding out. You’re scared now. No one holding tight to the strings that pull you anymore, steering you in the direction of a window._

_You’re so scared now._

_**So scared to die.** _

_You never thought you would be, at least not when the time finally came. You’d thought it’d be different, you thought that maybe you’d have longer._

_No time left now. And in your final moments, you’re alone and no one can save you. Your only company is shattered glass and blood scattered on asphalt._

_**So very alone.**_

_Lives snuffed out one by one until you’re the only one left in agony._

_Your eyes feel heavy,  the world no longer feels right. Sounds echoing back and forth, sirens in the distance feel distorted and wrong. You barely notice the feeling of hands that lift you, the pain that surges through you._

_**You want to scream** but you can’t._

_Your eyes flutter open and you’re no longer scared._

_**You’re terrified.**_

_She smiles at you and you don’t have the capability to cry, to lash out, to do anything to get away._

_You’re no longer scared of death. Death would be so much better than this._

_Help me **help me** help me_

_Still alive **I’m still alive**_

_Don’t let her take me_

_Please, Ortega, ****don’t let her take me!!_

_**Steel** , please! Please listen to me!_

_No one hears, no one listens_

_And you break_

_**And break**_

_And break_

…

  **Ortega:**

 You don’t know what to feel, what to think. You’d had your suspicions that he was Heartbreak but he told you some secrets. Some secrets that made so much sense that you had to be wrong. He wasn’t Heartbreak.

 And yet he is.

 And something else.

  _Something worse._

 He was unconscious and bleeding, going into a critical condition. You had to take him to a hospital, had to watch as they tore off his chest plate in the ambulance trying to asses the damage only to hesitate as you all see it.

 Orange lines against his skin. Orange lines burned into your sight and mind as you realize the extent of the secrets he’s kept. And now you sit and you watch the shallow breaths he takes. The hospital gown hiding none of the secrets written across his arms.

 Your mind is unsure where it wants to focus. The orange lines that whisper inhumanity or the scars that scream of something all too human. _Is he even the Kiyo you knew?_

 Traitorous thoughts calling him a fake, that he has to be alive somewhere else, that _they_ must have him. You push them back to the recesses of your mind. It’s him. You know it’s him. From all the time spent with him, from all the moments and memories shared. From the things his mind, _full of terror and pain_ , showed everyone in a three block radius.

 "Hey,“ Wei’s voice is soft but it still startles you enough that you almost jump out of your chair. Your gaze tears from Kiyo’s prone body to Wei’s bruised self, holding a cup of coffee towards you.

 "Thanks,” you mumble, grabbing it from him and taking a sip. You doubt it’ll help the bone deep tiredness you’re feeling. Tired of secrets, tired of what they mean.

 "What are they saying?“ He pulls a seat up next to you. Eyes focused on Kiyo. He’s handling this better than you or maybe it’s just an act and he’s just as panicked as you are.

  _He probably figured everything out._

_And never told you._

 You shake away the thoughts, sighing as your left-hand tries to rub the tiredness from your eyes, "They say he should have woken up by now but that the dampeners might be hindering the process.”

 "So it’s a waiting game than?“ he shifts leaning back against the chair, trying to get as comfortable as possible.

 "Yeah, we can’t risk turning them off,” he knows that as well as you do. The ambulance that was bringing you all here had almost crashed when Kiyo had woken up. Screaming. Out loud and in everyone’s heads. Strong enough to even breach the static of your mind.

  _Two words._

_Two words that reverberated in your skull and left an echo you can still hear._

_**Help me.**_

 And then he had looked at you, and all you could see was his absolute terror.

  _Terrified of you. Terrified of what you would think, **terrified of what you would do to him.**_

 The sedative wasn’t enough to stop the screaming of his mind. You had at one point in your life wondered what it would be like to have his ability. To see a person’s thoughts the way he does… you don’t think you could handle it again.

 The pain, the self-hate, the losing battle to _want_ to stay alive, and the fear. You’ve never felt so afraid in your life.

  _So afraid of yourself._

 And the way you had looked at him. Orange overcoming any sense of self. In his eyes, you were looking at a monster in disgust. The fear has yet to abate but now you’re afraid for your own reasons.

_Afraid of how you’ll look at him when he finally wakes up._


	21. Ambulance part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve been working on and off, on this for months and I’m just going to throw it out into the world so I stop messing with it.
> 
> This is a second part to ambulance but isn't technically apart of bad things bingo
> 
> TW: Allusions to abuse, suicidal character, hospital room, ask to tag
> 
> SPOILERS BELOW

  You’re barely awake when the screaming starts again. Kiyo’s body thrashing against the bonds holding him down to the medical bed, his eyes open but clearly not awake.

  "Please, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’ll behave, I’ll listen, I’ll-“ his pleading screams continue, turning into pleading choked sobs by the time they finally put him under again. 

  The dampeners hold back the horrors his mind is experiencing… _re-experiencing_ … honestly, that realization is more than enough to twist the knife deeper. Each flinch that Kiyo’s had towards your touch flashes behind your eyes like a reel of film slowly replaying every bit you’d noticed but never put a name to. Not until now, not until you realized there was more than just a meaning that’d been scratched out by his nails.

  He’d tried to hide it. Tried to play it off as nothing. You let him. Maybe for his sake but more likely for your own. You can feel the anger burning beneath your skin already. Cracking your own masks into pieces as you remember the ever persistent fear he’d had around you in those early years. The same fear that had come back with him from the grave.

  But it was worse than before. You could tell in the way he moves, in the way he holds himself. Always ready to defend from an unexpected hit or at worse curl up in a ball to protect anything vital. Flinching at anything that got to close, and tired haunted grey eyes that couldn’t meet yours.

  Your hands lie uselessly in your lap, a forced relaxation even though you can feel the energy surging through your fingers. A feeling of static that numbs them into complacency. Afraid to touch, afraid to reach out. You can’t soothe the horrors his mind is experiencing endlessly right now, you can’t do anything to make up for your past failures. For not seeing the truth that’s been right in front of you. 

  So you wait. Watching as people come and go. Wei stays for as long as he can, deep purple bags under his eyes as he sits beside you, arms crossed and jaw tightened. Probably going through a million different things in his head that all lead to a single clear point. If you tried you might be able to guess that exact point but right now Wei’s exhaustion seeps and mixes with yours. 

  You’re two tired old men waiting for the inevitable guillotine to finally cut you both down. 

  It’s not long before duty calls him back to work. He pushes out of his chair, a step forward and suddenly he’s leaning in front of you, face to face. A careful press of chapped lips against yours, a hesitancy in the breath that mingles with your own. For a second he lets himself break just a bit. Dark eyes brimming with unshed tears, lips you seize with yours to sing a song of desperation and words neither of you can speak. 

  Not yet. Not here at least and not until Kiyo wakes up. He pulls away a broken man that pieces himself together bit by bit. His hand hovering over Kiyo’s before he gives it a hesitant squeeze. You watch him walk out the door, Wei Chen firmly pushed down and Marshal Steel slipped back into place like that’s who he’s always been. 

  He leaves you with the silence of empty hallways and a room buzzing with noise. The sounds of beeps and machines that tell you Kiyo is alive. But they can’t tell you for how long.

  How long before someone comes looking for him. How long can you try to protect him from them. How long can you protect him from himself? 

  He’d yell at you for even thinking that. 

   "I’m sorry,” it’s your voice this time. Soft and broken and begging for forgiveness from someone who could never give it to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry if I made it feel impossible for you to tell me the truth, I’m sorry that it’s ended up like… _this_." 

  You rub a hand against your face, wiping away the tears building in your eyes, "As long as I’ve known you, you’ve felt like someone so much stronger than me. So much more… _real_ than anyone I’ve ever known." 

  Someone that treated you like you were still human despite your mods, despite your leash. Someone you didn’t want to disappoint with the truths of who you really are. Hidden beneath layers upon layers so that if he ever got through one there would be another one lying in wait for him. 

  Too many layers between you both on each side. Hiding things from each other until all that’s built is a relationship held together by lies and secrets and two people terrified of the other’s rejection. 

  You feel a laugh build in your chest and you listen as it comes out with a hint of desperation. How does Wei deal with either of you? You’re both such a mess.  

  "And then you died,” your voice feels hollow as you continue on, “…. And I fell apart, I guess I’m still falling apart in a few ways… Finding you again… I thought maybe I was finally starting to crack. But it really was **you** and I began thinking that maybe it was a sign of a second chance instead. A chance to make up for everything I never said, or at least be there for you now… for all those times I wasn’t.”

  Try to fix everything you’d broken. Trying to help him piece himself back together. Because that’s what you do. Try to fix the hurt so that you can feel like your fixing your own. 

  You find yourself staring out the window, the night sky dimly lit by the city below, "I thought I could help you, thought I was following all the clues to something that terrified me. So when you gave me an out and whether you did it knowingly or unknowingly… I guess it doesn’t matter which since I wanted to accept it as the whole truth with no other options.”

   _You didn’t want to think about what you’d have to do if he became dangerous._

  You catch his reflection in the window, chest steadily rising up and down. No signs of any distress suddenly returning. No signs of waking anytime soon. You start to rub your eyes, trying to erase the tiredness… ignoring the tears building behind them as you remember the terror he looked at you with. 

  Kiyo. Sidestep… Heartbreak. You wonder if he chose that name as a shout for help. Telling you exactly who he was, what he’s still suffering from. Crying out for help in a way he thought you’d see. 

  But you didn’t see. You didn’t want to see, “It was too late for my help, anyway, wasn’t it? Too late to help, too late to fucking save you from… _them…_ from any more pain. Only there to find the broken pieces you had to glue back together by yourself and all I can fucking think to say is I’m sorry.”

    “God, do you ever stop fucking talking?” 

  You startle turning to find half lidded grey eyes looking at you exhausted and tired. No screaming, no panic. Just the sight of an irritated Kiyo that causes a sudden crushing relief that you have to choke back the relieved sob that follows. “You’re awake.”

  “I’m not really confident in that statement,” he looks away, trying to scan the room but failing as he eyelids haphazardly fall shut. He sighs, turning back to you blinking slowly. “Why are you here?”

  “What?” your face immediately scrunches in confusion, unsure exactly what he’s asking.

  "Don’t give me that bullshit… don’t look at me like that,“ his hands ball into fists but he doesn’t try to move more than that. Like he’s keenly aware he wouldn’t be able to move them anyway.

  He stares at you, grey eyes more akin to ice than you ever remember them being. Cold, hard, hiding everything behind a lock and key.

  And it’s more revealing than he knows. 

  ”… You know what fine. No bullshit,“ you’re tired, he’s tired. It’s time for you to stop being afraid of pushing him away, "I’m here for you. I’m here because the person I lo- the person I care about decided the best way to handle this was to become a fucking Villain.”

  His laugh is bitter and loud, “Who said I was handling anything?” He sighs looking up at the ceiling, “I haven’t been handling shit…I don’t get why you’re still here.” 

  “Kiyo-”

  “No, Ortega. You know as well as I do that you shouldn’t be here,” his voice is steady, face already becoming a mask you’re so familiar with. “You’ve seen the truth.”

   “I know exactly what I’ve seen and it changes nothing. It doesn’t change that what you’ve been put through was wrong, it doesn’t change the person you are… it doesn’t change how I feel about you.“

  "It should.” Voice still so cold but you can see the cracks in his mask. The way his lip quivers just a hint as his eyes begin to turn watery. 

  "Well too bad for you you’re stuck with me.“

  He laughs, bitter and broken in response, "You’re an idiot.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m an idiot too.“

  "I’m definitely not disagreeing with that.”

  His next laugh is brighter and honest. And you watch as he crumbles bit by bit. Loud sobs mixed with laughter as he finally lets himself break in front of you. 

  And you can’t help but join him. A crashing wave of relief made worse by the tiredness that’s seeped into your bones. You should call Wei. Tell him that Kiyo’s finally awake and aware. 

  But for right now you let yourself have this moment.

…

_"Also, I kicked Hollowground in the face for you.”_

_"Wait…..What?!“_

_”Well that and because he’s such a fucking asshole.“_

_"Again, What!?”_


End file.
